


Mayfly

by eratedgore



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 04:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18403112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratedgore/pseuds/eratedgore
Summary: Doumeki makes a choice. Nothing is born from the egg. Life goes on.





	Mayfly

It’s spring once again. Doumeki hears the sound of sweeping as he walks up to the temple, and surely it’s not his grandmother, considering how old she’s gotten, so he instantly thinks of what he’ll have for dinner tonight. Doumeki passes through the gate, and as expected, Watanuki is sweeping the front yard. He glances up, looking at Doumeki over the top of his glasses.

“...Hey,” Watanuki says. Doumeki stares for a moment, and Watanuki flinches a little. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?? Don’t tell me you expected me to say ‘welcome home’ or something like that?!” The overreaction is refreshing, as usual, and puts Doumeki right at ease.

“Well, it is my home.” Watanuki brandishes the broom at him like he’s wielding a sword.

“As if there’s any way I’d greet you in such a manner!”

“Hmm.” Doumeki leans against the gate. “Get off of class early today?”

“Yeah, and your grandmother said it was alright for me to get started working today. She was hoping some of those wards could get redrawn,” Watanuki says, returning to sweeping.

“I’ll look around in the storehouse for some references then.” He pauses, and the moment is quiet except for the sweeping. Then, Watanuki stops, and the air is completely silent between them.

“Are you about to—”

“Beef for dinner.”

“Absolutely  _ not _ !”

 

Dinner tastes wonderful as ever. Doumeki’s grandmother thanks Watanuki for making dinner before going off to bed.

“Sake?” Doumeki immediately asks (less asks and more demands with a slight intonation at the end of the word), and Watanuki groans.

“Oh my god! No! Absolutely not!” Watanuki slaps his forehead. “How old are you? Isn’t this technically illegal? It’s illegal, but you drink any alcohol down like a fish, just like…” He’s looking down into his near empty bowl. “Just like…” Watanuki trails off, and narrows his eyes a little, gaze drifting to the right as if…

He’s trying to remember something.

He frowns. His eyebrows furrow.

Each second passes like an hour going by.

Doumeki’s stomach twists and tightens. He unthinkingly clenches his jaw. It won’t happen. Watanuki won’t remember Yuuko, but sometimes he gets  _ close  _ and it scares Doumeki every time.

This awful, nerve wracking feeling must be one of the prices Doumeki has paid to keep Watanuki. To not lose him to the shop. To not lose him to Yuuko.

Doumeki has to remind himself that he deserves this. He deserves to be with someone he cares for. Did Watanuki deserve to keep his memories of Yuuko? Maybe. Maybe he deserved to keep his memories more than Doumeki deserves to be with Watanuki. Maybe it doesn’t matter. In the end, Doumeki made a decision for the both of them, and now he must pay the price. 

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Watanuki snaps.

“Pasta for tomorrow’s dinner,” Doumeki says, out of habit. A habit he developed long ago but has evolved into a tactic for steering Watanuki away from remembering.

“Oh! My!  _ GOD _ !”

 

They visit the shop sometimes. He may have forgotten Yuuko, but Watanuki has vague memories of the shop and what had happened there. They’re blurry and confusing, and that only further draws Watanuki back. Watanuki greets Maru, Moro, and Mokona, cleans up a little, and settles in for a few hours to study the artifacts left behind and learn more about how he can survive in this world, survive the spirits that may linger when Doumeki’s busy. Sometimes the group from the other world call and Watanuki is so absolutely  _ ashamed  _ that he can’t help them, and Syaoran’s eyes go kind and he tells him that he’s done nothing wrong and that Watanuki’s mere existence is enough for him.

Maru and Moro may stare at Doumeki for a little too long. He had no say in the death of their mistress, but he most certainly robbed them of another master. Mokona assures him that he’s done nothing wrong. Yuuko would not have given him the egg if she had wanted him to absolutely not use it. Sometimes the atmosphere is too much for him, too tense and anxiety inducing, too much like  _ her _ , and Doumeki has to physically drag Watanuki out, even if it means leaving in the afternoon when the sun is still burning hot and Watanuki complains how much he sweats during their walk back— of course you sweat in the summer, Doumeki doesn’t know what Watanuki expects.

Sometimes, his thoughts are just him trying to distract himself from what he’s done.

 

“Good morning!” Himawari calls with a smile, wearing the scarf Watanuki made for her loosely but surely covering the nape of her neck.

“Good morning, Himawari!” Watanuki replies cheerfully. “Cold this morning, isn’t it? Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“I wasn’t asking  _ you _ , Doumeki!” Himawari giggles at Watanuki’s outburst. They begin their walk to the train station. After about twenty minutes of talking about all sorts of things, like Watanuki’s work at the temple, or Doumeki’s new internship in a chemistry lab, or Himawari’s recent uptake in gardening, Himawari finally, slowly asks,

“So, have you been back to the shop recently?” Watanuki fumbles with a smile.

“Ah, um, yeah, last week. Syaoran and his friends called again.” He starts to explain the latest world the group had been to, and Himawari takes the time to spare him a questioning glance. Doumeki shakes his head. No recent fate defying flashbacks.

Himawari remembers Yuuko fairly well. A few people still do, those with power. They talked about it, once. She was twirling a golden ginkgo leaf between her fingers, when she suddenly remarked,

“I feel that it’s unfair that we can remember Miss Yuuko, but Watanuki can’t.” The words came out surprisingly sharp, and Himawari immediately added, “Not that I’m blaming you or anything, Doumeki. You did what you needed to, and now we can be here with Watanuki. I’m immensely grateful. But, still…” She paused, looking thoughtful, then shook her head and smiled. “No, nevermind. I’m sorry, don’t worry about it.”

Watanuki’s memories are an interesting thing, Doumeki thinks. He remembers everything besides Yuuko— literally everything, even if it’s fuzzy, even if it doesn’t make sense without her presence. Especially if it doesn’t make sense. Syaoran’s group had called about a month after Yuuko’s passing, and Doumeki nearly threw Mokona across the room to end the call. Those memories will never return, but Doumeki will avoid having to answer questions if he can.

“Gack!!” Watanuki yelps as Doumeki walks right into him. “Watch where you’re  _ going _ !!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Watanuki grumbles, but stops and brightens as Himawari smiles.

“We’re about a block away now!” she says. “Let’s go!” Watanuki happily agrees, and the two of them walk a step ahead of Doumeki.

 

He lowers his arms, breathing out. It’s been forever since he’s actually done any legitimate archery, but he has to know how to do it. If he had forgotten, Doumeki wouldn’t be able to protect Watanuki when he needed to. A lingering crackle of yellow energy, so bright it’s nearly white, sparks around his hand. The remains of the spirit fly away with a breeze. Doumeki looks behind him at Watanuki, still on the ground. He reaches a hand out, and for once, Watanuki takes it. Doumeki pulls him up, and Watanuki dusts his pants off.

“...Thanks.” The clarity of the word does something strange in Doumeki’s chest. It’s not murmured for once, or followed by a loud tirade with flailing arms and legs.

Initially, Doumeki had figured that Watanuki would revert after he had forgotten Yuuko. Become a lone loser that rejected any attempt to help him and couldn’t understand the value of his life all over again, and they’d have to work all over again to keep him from disappearing. But besides the occasional confusion, the moments of completely blanking as he tried to recall someone who would never be in his life again in any form or way, he stayed the same. Watanuki’s change and development as a person was not solely contained in his memories of Yuuko— Mokona had once told Doumeki that there were memories of the body, and memories of the mind. While Watanuki had forgotten one of the most influential people in his life, maybe it was his body that retained his change. He trusts people, says “thank you”.

Even though there’s no doubt that Doumeki would do it all over again if needed, he’s very glad.

 

He rushes a little getting to the shop from class. It makes him a little anxious to know that Watanuki’s alone in the shop— well, not alone, but without Doumeki to carefully watch over him.

“Welcome,” Maru and Moro chime as he enters, a soft smile on their faces.

“Hey.” Doumeki takes off his shoes. “Where’s Watanuki?”

“Taking a nap.” They lead Doumeki further in. “He granted a customer’s wish,” they say simply, as if that wasn’t so shocking that Doumeki sucked in a breath and promptly choked on it. They open a door, and Doumeki sees Watanuki laying across the couch Yuuko tended to recline on.

“Watanuki?” Doumeki quickly closes the distance between them and kneels down. Watanuki mumbles something tiredly. “You granted someone’s wish?”

“...Yeah.” Panic seizes Doumeki’s heart— he knows it  _ shouldn’t _ , there’s probably no problem and Watanuki doesn’t look like he’s hurt at all, but what if this is just the start of something? What if, despite all Doumeki’s efforts, Watanuki decides he actually likes the shop so much that he’s going to become its true owner and lock himself inside forever? Watanuki looks up at Doumeki, an amber eye peeking at him. Doumeki wonders if he could see his own face, if he tried hard enough to see through Watanuki’s ( _ their _ ) eye. “It’s nothing, just a small wish about finding a lost item…” Doumeki must be making some sort of weird expression, because Watanuki frowns and tries to sit up. “What? Is something wrong?”

_ Yeah, something’s wrong, I’m afraid this will go too far and I’ll lose you forever. _

Of course, Doumeki doesn’t  _ say  _ that, but the thought is so loud in his head that he feels like he did.

“Just… be careful. Don’t push yourself too much. If something happens…” Doumeki realizes just how close he is to Watanuki, and he takes a moment to sit back. “...Grandma will lose an important worker around the temple.” Watanuki lets his head drop back down.

“Of course.” Watanuki laughs quietly. “Don’t worry, Doumeki. The shop was created to grant wishes, right? I’m sure nothing will go wrong.” Doumeki wants to protest, but then Mokona busts in like a hurricane.

“Watanuki! You up yet? I want foooood!” Maru and Moro pick Mokona up and swing around in a circle.

“Food! Food!” they chant, as if it was the old days and Yuuko’s right behind them all to call out for some ridiculous dinner order and immense amounts of alcohol. 

They all want to protect Watanuki. Doumeki knows that. Sometimes it feels as though they have two different ideas on how to do that, though. Keep him out of the shop, keep him in it. Keep him away from magic, let him use it. Doumeki doesn’t know which one is the right option.

 

He’s laughing so hard, he’s literally shaking.

“I— I’m s-sorry, it’s not even that f-funny…” Watanuki manages to choke out in between bouts of laughter. Doumeki wipes the cream off of his face (it really honestly wasn’t that funny) with one hand— he’d get a towel, but then he’d have to turn around and take his eyes off of Watanuki. Himawari seems entranced too, staring at him and smiling fondly. Without thinking, she touches her shoulder blade.

How far they’ve come. How much each of them has given up to be here today. Doumeki and Himawari have worked so  _ hard  _ to make sure Watanuki didn’t disappear.

It was all so worth it.

“Don’t knock over all the chocolate,” Doumeki warns as Watanuki’s elbow comes close to the bowl. Watanuki takes a couple deep breaths, trying to calm down. Himawari claps her hands together.

“Now then! Since we have had plenty entertainment for the next hour, let’s continue with the lesson! These Valentine’s day chocolates won’t make themselves!” Watanuki nods, still grinning.

To be here is such a miracle.

 

“Look, a butterfly.” Watanuki points, and Doumeki spots a bright yellow butterfly flitting about above their heads. “Isn’t it rather early for butterflies to be out?” he muses. They watch it fly around the shop’s yard, searching for flowers to land on. “Did you know that butterflies symbolize change?” he asks.

“Hmm.” Doumeki doesn’t really want to go down this path, but Watanuki looks so at peace just sitting there. To change the subject and rile him up would be just robbing him of one more thing. Steam rises from Watanuki’s cup of tea. “Because of metamorphosis, huh?”

“I guess so.” The butterfly continues to search for the flowers that have not bloomed yet. “We’ve changed a lot too, haven’t we?” Doumeki turns to look at Watanuki to find Watanuki already staring right back at him. Something aches in his chest as he meets mismatched eyes.

“Maybe we have.”

 

Doumeki thinks to himself in the middle of the night. He thinks to himself at one in the morning, because he can’t help it.

If Watanuki did remember, what would Doumeki do? Just admit that he took away Watanuki’s memories? Explain that yes maybe it was selfish but the alternative would’ve been years of suffering on Doumeki’s side? Years and generations? In some ways, he’s fine with Watanuki hating him. If Watanuki ever realizes what he’s done, Doumeki will deal with however he retaliates. He had always been ready to accept the consequences when it came to protecting Watanuki,

but can he argue that he’s protecting Watanuki in this case?

If Watanuki took over Yuuko’s shop, he’d undoubtedly become stronger, enough so that no spirits that weren’t dumb as a rock would unreasonably bother him. He would decide to keep existing to meet Yuuko again. What could Doumeki do that the shop couldn’t?

They wanted Watanuki to keep existing, and if he took over the shop, he would exist. Forever.

...No. Nothing lasts forever. In fact, everything seems to pass by so quickly. You’re born, you live, you die, and it’s all a little blip in the face of the universe. It’s a wonder that humans manage to meet each other because their tiny little life spans happen to overlap.

It’s not that it just happens, though, right? There is no such thing as coincidence. Everything is a result of inevitability.

It is inevitable that we are born, meet, and then die.

It was inevitable that Doumeki saw through Watanuki’s eye and rushed to the treasure storeroom and was so afraid, so absolutely honestly terrified of Watanuki’s words and decision that his hand closed too tightly around the empty egg and cracked it open—

The time to use it was Doumeki’s choice, yet it felt like he had no say in it.

Maybe  _ that  _ itself is inevitability.

The inevitable just _ happens _ , and the world must adjust and react.

Yuuko had asked him not to hesitate, so, unknowingly, he didn’t.

Doumeki can’t say that he understood Watanuki’s choice. He knew little of its conditions, his reasons and the whole story behind it. But, if it was the true ending in the scheme of things, then erasing Watanuki’s memories would have done nothing. If Watanuki was truly destined to stay in the shop, then he  _ would have _ , no matter what. What Watanuki must have had to really lose was not his freedom, but those memories.

This thought makes Doumeki feel a little better.

When he stays over, Watanuki sleeps in the room next to Doumeki’s. Sometimes, it’s so unbearably comforting to know that Watanuki’s in the same house as him, so amazingly reassuring to know that at any time, if he needs, Doumeki can walk a few feet and open a door and make sure that Watanuki is right there.

He doesn’t.

Usually.

Fear makes you do the most surprising things.

 

“You’re taking care of yourself, right, Kimihiro?” Watanuki smiles.

“Of course.” Cicadas cry noisily outside, and Mokona’s small fan whirs quietly. Mokona hums happily in the small breeze.

“I worry about you,” Syaoran says earnestly. He’s wearing a heavy brown coat and a hat that covers his ears. The light from a campfire illuminates him softly. “Oh! Not because, because I think you’re incompetent or anything, it’s just…” Syaoran sighs, and Watanuki laughs.

“I know. Really, I’m alright. Right, Doumeki?” Doumeki shrugs.

“More or less.” Watanuki raises an eyebrow, as if unsatisfied with the response. Syaoran looks past Watanuki and gives Doumeki a polite nod. It’s been a long time since Doumeki and Syaoran first spoke one on one, when Doumeki explained the situation about Yuuko and Watanuki’s memories. They talked from night until the break of dawn as Syaoran caught Doumeki up on everything that had happened relating to Watanuki, and Doumeki told Syaoran everything that had happened after Yuuko died (leaving out Doumeki’s own role in the situation for the time being). Both of them had been relatively confused with the other’s story, but the important facts had managed to get across, and Doumeki was scared to finally figure out just how close Watanuki had got to disappearing.

“I see…” Syaoran seemed genuinely upset. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Kimihiro’s already lost so much… But I’m sure he’ll be okay. He has friends like you to support him.”

_ Yeah, friends like me that take away his memories for my own reasons. _

“I’ll make sure nothing happens to him,” Doumeki said, and Syaoran smiled. It wasn’t too hard to see how similar Watanuki and Syaoran were when looking at those gentle, honest, warm smiles.

“Feel free to call if you ever need anything. Kimihiro has helped me so much, I’m always glad to repay him.”

When he hears Syaoran speak, sometimes Doumeki wonders if he’ll ever get to call Watanuki “Kimihiro” too. Syaoran is the closest existence to Watanuki, but maybe Doumeki can come in a close second. Watanuki carries Doumeki’s eye and blood, after all. He hopes that it means something.

“Why are you looking so weirdly thoughtful over there?” Doumeki breaks from his thoughts at Watanuki’s voice. Mokona had disconnected the call, and was now in Watanuki’s arms. “Stop being weird and get up and help me make dinner, or you won’t have any.” Watanuki has threatened to not make lunch or dinner several times, but not once has he made good on it.

 

Watanuki stands out in the garden, arms crossed like he’s trying to hold something. Doumeki stares from a distance as Watanuki stares up at the moon.

He looks so…. alone.

Watanuki turns at the sound of Doumeki approaching. He’s not wearing his glasses.

“You… Doumeki?”

“Yeah?” Watanuki sighs and looks at the ground. He pushes at some cherry blossom flowers on the ground with his foot. The pale pink petals scatter at his touch.

“This… isn’t a dream, is it?” Watanuki asks quietly. “I’m really  _ here _ , right?” Watanuki standing by himself like that makes Doumeki feel cold air on his skin and rain soaking into his shoes. If Watanuki’s in a dream, Doumeki must be in one too. He nearly expects Watanuki’s figure to waver and disappear, like a ripple on a pond’s surface.

“...You’re here.” Watanuki presses his fingers against his lips, like he’s trying to feel his own skin and reassure himself. Doumeki wants to reach out and brush his fingers against Watanuki’s, as if reassuring himself as well.

“I  _ feel  _ like I’m here, but dreams can feel so real, sometimes… I’ll just slip into one like it’s nothing, and wake up just as suddenly…” He squeezes his eyes shut tight. “At least, I used to. I  _ should  _ be here, but sometimes it feels like I’m missing something, something so crucial I don’t know how I got here without it…”

“You’re not missing anything,” Doumeki says, maybe a little too quickly and harshly. He remembers when he was more afraid of Watanuki disappearing, and the words just tumble out. “You’re fine the way you are. Even if something  _ was  _ missing, simply… simply existing along with the people you care for is enough.”

Maybe that strikes a chord with Watanuki, because Watanuki falls silent. He says nothing instead of making fun of Doumeki for suddenly being so philosophical. Slowly, Watanuki faces Doumeki.

“Those words...” he murmurs. “Didn’t… she say them, too?” Doumeki’s stomach jolts the ground’s been ripped out from underneath him. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, a distraction, god  _ anything— _

And then Watanuki shudders, his eyes nearly rolling back up into his head, and he drops to his knees. Doumeki’s at his side in an instant, carefully supporting him and making sure Watanuki doesn’t see the tight line of his mouth.

This happens sometimes, too.

Watanuki remembers, and the world says that he cannot, under any circumstances, remember. So he forgets, once again.

Their world was dictated by one choice, one egg containing emptiness.

“I… what?” Watanuki mutters. “What just happened?” He looks up at Doumeki. “Doumeki…? Why are we out here?” Sometimes, Watanuki looks so small and fragile, and Doumeki wonders if this is what his decision has done to Watanuki. He has to resist the urge to pull Watanuki closer and hold him.

“I’m not sure what you were doing. I just got up and saw you out here,” he lies, as he always does when Watanuki doesn’t remember something incredibly vital. Watanuki sighs, and Doumeki helps him stand back up.

“I’m still having these blackouts… It’s been ten years now,” Watanuki says, and if he feels how Doumeki tightens his grip on him, he doesn’t comment on it. “I… I guess I ought to get back to bed.”

“...Yeah.” He walks Watanuki back to his room. Watanuki settles back into his futon as Doumeki watches from the doorway. As he turns to leave, Watanuki calls out.

“Doumeki.” He opens his mouth, as if about to say something incredibly important, but closes it and looks down. “...Goodnight.” Maybe he doesn’t want to go back to sleep. Maybe he doesn’t want to dream, and not know until he wakes whether it’s real or not.

“...Goodnight, Watanuki.”

 

Watanuki’s making omelettes for breakfast. He cracks the egg against the pan and the yolk drips in. Doumeki stares.

“What? What do you want?” He cracks another egg.

“...Food.” Doumeki doesn’t see the yolk come out.

“...It’ll be ready soon. Geez.” Something sizzles in the pan.

**Author's Note:**

> i really wanted to convey a sense of time that went by really quickly... so much of xxxholic is about time! memories of the past! what's happening in the present! what hitsuzen dictates for the future!!!!! yuuko!!! mayflies live fast die fast and also it's a reference to the second xxxholic anime ending lol  
> also i tagged this as doumeki & watanuki but you can definitely see it as douwata because doumeki and himawari were in love with watanuki real facts and i definitely accidentally wrote doumeki a little too gay


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